Hello everyone,
It's been pretty much forever so to my loyal readers, especially those who continue to give me feedback, ratings, comments, etc. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Writing has been a complete struggle and I found myself very lost, especially dealing with Lena's character. I'm facing a pretty serious case of writer's block at the moment, so I'm sorry for the short length of this update, but know that I'm working on the next little bit now. I haven't forgotten this story or any of you, just been dealing with life. I hope you enjoy this chapter and hang in there so we can finish this story together.
I wanted to really thank Mymantoy999, for the excellent advice on my last submission, as well as GermanChocolate4u and the many others who have commented or sent me messages. I read them all and I'm thankful for all of you. Your feedback makes me a better writer and encourages me to continue writing, even if it takes a long time to get back in the saddle. Thanks again and enjoy!
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Chapter 13
I spent days training with Lena. She would work me into exhaustion with the constant exercise that she endured, hardly any of the training was what I thought it would be. Compared to what the others seemed to focus on, which was generally more cerebral, or sexual, Lena seemed rather content to simply exercise. While I enjoyed fencing and sparring, constant exercise was simply a bore to me, it provided me with very little to look forward to. Admittedly, I was getting in better shape as time went on, and she was teaching me very useful knife and hand to hand techniques. By the middle of the week, I was contemplating if she had any intention of sleeping with me, or if perhaps that wasn't something she had any interest in. While I wasn't hurt by the thought, I was surprised.
"I think we're done for today," Lena said casually, her dagger still in hand, her blue eyes still cold. I was panting and thoroughly wiped out from the exercise, I lowered my sword and relaxed at last. She was relentless, her ability to focus and remain calm in a fight was amazing. The thought that she was older was simply not on my mind, as she was in far better fighting shape than the rest of us seemed to be. She was fluid, fast, decisive, all the things I wished I was in a fight and hoped to be eventually with her help.
"One last thing." I flinched, raising my sword quickly. She chuckled, "Not that," I sighed in relief and dropped my sword again, sheathing it this time. "Here," she handed me one of her daggers. I looked at her in disbelief for a moment, I had no idea what to do with a dagger, much less hers. "Watch me," she said simply, and she demonstrated how to palm it and keep it concealed.
"Doesn't seem all that complicated," I said, replicating her actions.
"It's not," she said simply, "It's an easy action and a simple concept that requires good dexterity to execute correctly, like so many other things." she motioned to the sword. "Learn it well, you may need it some day."
"You could say that about everything you have taught me so far." I was still repeating the action, flicking my wrist now to pull the dagger into my hand and swipe with it.
"True," she said simply, "But more often than not, we find ourselves in questionable situations with people we are not familiar, it's important to be safe."
This was the first time she mentioned anything about feeling uncomfortable around others, which I found strange, seeing as how she was formidable and intimidating in general. How could she possibly feel threatened? I had a hard time imagining it.
We practiced a few more times before she held out her hand to take the dagger, as I turned to return it, she swept my arm from me and stripped it from my fingers. I only noticed as my hand ended up halfway around my body. I shivered. She smiled with her cold eyes, "Be careful now, you always need to be aware. Let's go." She turned and started away, gliding gently over the sand. I was still in a form of shock at how easily she accomplished it. I stared at my hand for a moment, feeling powerless. How had she done that?
"Come on!" She called, pulling me back from my thoughts, I shook my head and followed after her. This woman was confusing, one moment expressing vulnerability, the next stripping weapons from my hands. I was trying to wrap my head around it. I began to wonder if there was more to what she had said to me previously, the problem had been that I was following her instructions. But wasn't that the point? I was supposed to learn from her, but I began to wonder.
We returned to the caravan, grabbing water on the way in, as had become habit now. Even though we exercised each and every day, she was meticulously clean and encouraged me to be so as well. I was ahead of her this time, closing the curtains as she lit the candles at the far end of the wagon once again. We were alone, for now, in the musty caravan with only the expensive carpeting and ornate carvings to keep us company.
I became aware while I undressed, that after four days of inactivity, I was becoming restless. Even the feeling of my clothes slipping from my body was becoming pleasurable. I glanced over at Lena, who was undressing just a few feet away in front of a mirror. Her pallid reflection shone before her, still riddled with fading bruises, most notably her face. While no longer swollen, it still bore the unmistable mark from the fight earlier in the week. I noticed moreso, however, the curve of her lower back, the form of her hips in the dim light, and her full breasts.
"You're staring," she said simply, fixing her hair before the mirror and examining the mark on her face. She hadn't even looked up.
I recoiled momentarily but I felt suddenly bold,
"And what if I am?"
My heart sunk immediately, my stomach twisted, and I felt a pounding in my chest. It felt as though I had overstepped, crossing some imaginary line that existed between us. If I had, as I imagined, Lena didn't seem to notice - or care. She continued to primp in the mirror as though I were a passing thought. She turned, examining every inch of herself in silence. Her nipples were taught, a light brown color against the skin tone of her breasts; larger than Skye's or Embry's. At first I had only thought her long and viney, and while she was in limb, she wasn't in stature. Without the robes to obscure them, I had begun to notice the distinct curvatures of her hips and ass. She was far fuller statured than both Skye or Embry, or even myself. I naively wondered what could have caused this. When she had finished she turned to me.
"Do you like what you see?" she asked, tilting her chin up condescendingly.